Repayment in Kind
by Rinslet
Summary: Somewhere along the way, you started seeing the world in one eye, letting your emotions shroud the rest. You miss the connections to the Spirit that you are a part of. You are called Archangel, but you have yet to know what it means to save a life.


**Summary:** Somewhere along the way, you started seeing the world in one eye, letting your emotions shroud the rest. You don't see the big picture. You miss the connections to the Spirit that you are a part of. You are called Archangel, but you have yet to know what it means to save a life.

English is not my first or second language, so I apologize in advance for the mistakes. Especially in this when I tried to write a very 'vague' Shepard, not mentioning the gender and any description...oh, and getting into a turian's head. It was hard.

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You are on the Citadel when you hear the news.

The _SSV Normandy_, prized jewel of the Human Alliance and Turian Hierarchy, has been decimated while on patrol in the Omega Nebula.

You stop dead in your tracks and look at the colossal holoprojection and pray that you heard wrong.

The report unfolds, accompanied by pictures and your omni-tool suddenly pings with an alarming sound. You hastily look away from the news and read the message from Executor Pallin. The frigate that rescued the survivors has cleared the relay and is on its way to the Citadel. Knowing your relationship with the late crew, he's given you clearance to 'welcome' them back on his behalf. You have never been more grateful to him and decide to make a quick detour to the Human Embassy to find out more about the situation. Anderson gives you a rundown of the _Normandy'_s last transmission and status. The news are grim, yet deep down you want to believe that your old comrades from the ground team whom you felt closest to all made it out okay.

But reality robs you of a person when the ship docks and the remaining survivors walk out.

Your heart tightens a little every time you remember the grim expression they all wore.

The world had seemed a little darker since.

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The funeral is the worst you've ever been to and you wonder how much bullshit Udina can say in one phrase. You've lost count after the seventh phrase and thank the Spirits for Joker's intrepidity. His outburst was the only highlight of the hour but you don't stick around to find out how his own kind will deal with him, your own defiance boiling hot and barely contained as you trudge towards the exit. It would not do to have an interracial scandal side-noted with the Hero of the Citadel's funeral in the next hour's news, so you walk away, itching for a fight, for release, anything to work out your frustration.

Pallin is there to greet you at the exit and you wonder if the day could get any worse. His expression is grim as usual and he all but shoves a datapad into your hands. His tone is dark and warning before he disappears around the corner, "Should have known you'd do something like this. Just don't end up like Saren."

Your mandibles flare in irritation and confusion before you look down. The content is enough to send you in a choked laugh and you suddenly remember that you had postulated for this on your return to C-sec after the battle with Sovereign.

. . .

THE FOLLOWING CANDIDATE GARRUS VAKARIAN HAS BEEN ACCEPTED INTO THE SPECIAL TACTICS AND RECONNAISSANCE TRAINING.  
THE NOMINATE WILL BE RELIEVED OF HIS/HER FUNCTION AS C-SEC OFFICER TO SERVE THE GALACTIC COUNCIL.

. . .

The same 'Galactic Council' that didn't so much as believe Shepard's words and didn't hesitate to refute everything once they saw the appropriate moment appear. Oh, they still like Shepard alright. The Commander's voice and likeness are used on every Alliance ad and other groups that support the Council, but the worship ends there and no words of Shepard's true goal is ever divulged. Anderson is the only one who knows the truth and his voice is thick with conviction, but gets stonewalled nonetheless. You have never been so angry at watching someone get crushed and wiped so cleanly; to have everything that Shepard stirred up brought down in cold calamity by a group of individual who deny a threat even if it comes crashing into their wall, tentacles and all. _Posthumously _at that. It was disgusting. Your throat goes dry and something coils in the pit of your stomach. You are likely to be used, having been in the same team that brought down Saren has earned you fame and respect, and of course they would welcome you in as long as you keep your mouth shut. You lean on the wall for support, crushed by the absurdity of it all, yet there is also something uplifting with the news. It is a worthy fight, you think, to keep your friend's legacy intact, and they will have to shoot you down if they think to make you do otherwise. You will do it in Shepard's name.

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Your life as a Spectre trainee and C-sec officer blurs and in all their talk of free play, you still manage to bounce off layers of red tape. The leash has certainly gotten wider, but it is still there. Your mentor is a turian who makes you wish you were working under Pallin again, and it doesn't take long for you to resign and disappear, letting them sort out the gap you made. Your only comfort is that you've managed to plant a seed of doubt into their midst and last you heard, some had decided to find out the truth on their own while others are planning to pry information from the Central Council Intelligence. You wish the latter good luck and hope that what you've done will be enough to prepare them for when the real threat will arrive. In the meanwhile, you feel as though you are called elsewhere...

You idealist nature takes you to Omega where one doesn't have to look through a scope to find someone corrupted. Your goal is set the moment you step out of the ship; kill all the mercs you can find and help the weak. You've always hated injustice and here was a good place to put your skills into use without worrying about restrictions. It is hard work but liberating, and rumors of a turian vigilante make their way around and soon you are infamous enough to keep your days busy and nights on constant alert. Survival becomes tedious and the jobs keeps getting harder. The day you finally question your own decisions in the first place is also the day you decide to stick by them when three armed men ask to sign up. The familiarity of a group effort tugs at the corner of your memory and you can't help but thank Shepard. The team gets larger and soon enough it becomes like family. You remember every one of their name and they all become part of the Spirit that unites your ragtag team. The loss that brought you together is the drive that pushes you to keep innocents from ever knowing it. You trust each of them with your life and never would have thought that it would one day backfire.

When you find your teammates lying in their own blood, something clamps down in your system and only anger surges through your body.

_Sidonis_

It is a shame really, that he was all that you can think of. Had you been able to set it aside for a moment, you would have heard the last heartfelt words of your comrades.

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Vengeance is all that keeps you going in the long hours when Eclipse, Blood Pack and Blue Suns mercs waltz into the crosshairs of your rifle. That, and the ghost of an old friend who is slowly (too slowly) approaching your position alongside the infiltration team. You can hardly believe it, but it is a gamble that you take with your sanity when you lower the mass accelerator force of your weapon in order to only bring down the shields. Your mental health proves itself to be intact when the trio turn on the mercs and fight their way up the stairs and into your stronghold. You exhale the breath you didn't know you were keeping.

The same voice that often barked orders at you and guided your steps in the past is now mingled with surprise and relief.

You don't remember much about your answer beyond something wry with humor and tinged with irritation towards yourself, only that the mercs delivered a nasty surprise on you; one that you would wear on your face for the rest of your life. The concern Shepard has about your injuries is mirrored with your own towards your friend's new ties. Memories of your previous dealings with Cerberus rings still, but you know better than to worry about being dragged to hell once more. The smile that Shepard gratifies you with is unguarded and grateful, making you mull over the positive outcome of having to deal with three mercenary groups who ganged up on you and having the top half of your body blown off; Shepard is back.

The time that you spent apart sharpening your skills and make-do with the other's absence seem to all have been for this moment when the back of the Commander leans into yours to cover your six, your enemies gunned down like easy prey. Everything that is left in Shepard's wake is as its always been and you have had no reason to question the motives... until the face that you see through your scope is not Sidonis'.

"Don't you _dare_ try to save his life, Shepard. He doesn't deserve any pity."

The tone used to sway you away from revenge is nothing short of compassionate "I'm not trying to save his life. I'm trying to save yours."

"Well I know that I'll live better knowing that he'll rot in a waste disposal instead of a cell."

"You've both been rotting inside since the death of your teammates, Garrus. The only difference is that you still have things to live for. Look at him, there's nothing left to kill. Only someone left to save," a small pause before the Commander picks up again, hopeful, "Save him, Garrus. Only you can." In your visor, the charcoal grey armor and red stripe disappear to reveal the green and blue of Sidonis' sleek clothes.

_Bought from the money he got betraying us, _a dark corner of your mind persists in adding.

But you realize that the clothes are too large on his frame and that his complexion is paler than what you remember. Not unlike the state you were in following the death of your ten good men.

With a tremendous effort, you lean away from the scope and bid him to go. It takes two full minutes before he disappears into the elevator while you battle with your inner conscience. There were five opportunities that you did not take; when he turned, stumbled, paused, got pushed aside and waited for the elevator to come; and regret every one of them. The feeling of satisfaction doesn't come and you are still thinking things over when Shepard comes back and gives you a gentle tap on your shoulders. You do not wish to talk about Sidonis right now, so you skim over other details.

"I distinctly remember you saying that I 'still have things to live for'. You seem to think that you know me quite well, so tell me, what do I have to live for exactly?"

The answer to your question comes so quickly that it throws you off guard because you thought that it was simply some lip service done in Sidonis' behalf that you fell for. "You're my right-hand man, Garrus. We still have the Collector and the Reapers to take care of. Don't you want to take part in the mightiest battle against the biggest, baddest threat the galaxy has ever stood against? When they'll get here and we beat them up, it'll be enough to make the Council wet their pants when they'll see us in the after-party."

For a minute, you are dumbfounded at the idea. So _fame_ is the reason you should live for?

Shepard is grinning from ear to ear and you wonder if the human is serious or not. You can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Your friend joins you and seems keen on keeping the idea standing for a while longer. "Come on, Garrus. You, me and the rest of the crew against galaxy's baddest."

The idea of defending the galaxy leaves a bitter trail in your mind. You have been chewed and spit out of the galaxy's favor... _and_ you still get treated like it surprised you in bed with its mate. You don't know if you can handle another round, but the thought of sticking by a friend a while longer deserved more consideration. Somehow, it sounded appealing. Anywhere this human goes, things were sure to get lively.

"Shepard, you're the only friend I've got in this whole damn galaxy." Your answer is vague, but it is enough for Shepard to nudge you back to the vehicle.

"Yeah, I like you too Garrus."

"I'll need some time to think things through."

"All the time you need, Garrus, you have it."

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_An eye for an eye. A life for a life._

You muse at how literal you can interpret that human idiom. Somewhere along the way, you and Sidonis started seeing the world in one eye, letting your emotions shroud the rest. You don't see the big picture. You miss the connections to the Spirit that you are a part of. Now you are both alive, and though a part of your life didn't go right, you know that your eyes are uncovered and will make-do with the time left. Last you heard, Sidonis has turned himself in to C-sec and confessed his crime. In doing so, he pledges his life to you, and will spend the remainder of his life repenting for his mistake. As for yourself, you will carry him along with the Spirit of your former team and continue to uphold the convictions you all had when you first started the team. Sticking by Shepard seems like a good start. The human had a knack of attracting the wrong crowd. And you will be there to bring them down. You are Archangel, your wrath is swift and the last sound they will hear is the crack shot of your rifle.

Later, when you sit down for a moment to ponder on the events and let the calibrations run for themselves, you can feel that you are calm and resolute for the first time since the incident. When Shepard comes and tells you that dinner is served, you happily follow and you both start bantering on trivial events that has laughter and teasing noise about around the table. Salvation comes in many forms, and you realize that small moments like these when you can laugh freely and enjoy the company of a friend might just be one of them.


End file.
